Blue Coincidences
by Sydney Wood
Summary: ~Ch. 6 up!~ Sydney doesn't know that she holds something of great value to Sloane...and to Sark. Yes, the bad boy's in town and he wants what Sydney's got! There's eveything from kidnapping, to romance, and lots of Sark! *Set before 'Truth Takes Time'
1. Unfortunate Change of Plans

Disclaimer: I own none of Alias' characters that you might recognize in this story.  
  
A/N: This is my first Alias fic, so I want lots and lots of feedback! This is set right after 'A Dark Turn' (aired 03/02/03) I'm going to try and finish this before the next episode if that's possible. Or maybe I'll even continue it after the next one. It's all according to how long I want it. Anyway, hope you enjoy!  
  
Blue Coincidences  
  
Chapter 1 Unfortunate Change of Plans  
~*~*~*~*~  
Sydney Bristow reached up onto the top shelf of her closet. She moved her hand around, feeling into the corners until she felt the edge of the small wooden box.  
  
Sighing, she brought the box out of the darkness and into to the dim light of her room. She smoothed her elegant black dress with the palm of her hands, and tucked her hair behind her ear as she stared at the box.  
  
It was Friday, she had left work and come immediately home, jumped into the shower, fixed her hair, and then put on the expensive black dress that she had bought for her savvy date with Vaughn. Michael. She looked good, the dress had one strap that went across her shoulder and it did a sort of frill thing at the bottom. But she felt miserable. Ever since questioning Michael's loyalty to the CIA, things had been tense between them. She supposed this fancy dinner date was his effort to make up. Needless to say, she wasn't looking forward to it.  
  
She brought her thoughts back on the small intricate box that she held in her hands. She lifted the lid, and was awestruck, like always, at the beautiful necklace that rested on the velvet lining inside. This necklace was an extraordinary piece of jewelry that her mother had given her a very long time ago. Before everything had gone wrong.  
  
When Sydney had seen the dress in the store, she had immediately thought of her mother's necklace. It would go perfectly. The thin silver chain, and the mystifying pendant that hung on it was so eye-catching. The stone inlaid in the pendant was an abnormally large opal that glittered a bewildering blue when the light hit it just right. The opal right now looked very much its normal color right now though. In the dim light the white of it was flecked with sparkling colors as she turned it in her hand.  
  
Sydney turned around to clasp it on and faced the mirror. She jumped as she caught a glimpse of Francie in the reflection. She had been so mesmerized by her mother's necklace that she hadn't even noticed her presence.  
  
"Going out?" Francie asked.  
  
"With Michael." Sydney nodded. "Will you help me with this clasp?"  
  
Francie moved quietly over to Sydney as she lifted her hair and handed the necklace carefully to Francie.  
  
"It's beautiful." Francie said calmly, her eyes never leaving the opal.  
  
"Thanks." Sydney smiled. "My mother gave it to me when I was very young."  
  
Francie's eyes seemed to fill with interest. But she didn't ask any questions.  
  
"Have a wonderful time. Is Michael coming to pick you up?"  
  
"Yes. I thought he would be here by now." Sydney glanced at the clock next to her bed. "It's not like him to be late."  
  
"He'll be here soon, don't worry." Francie's voice was so emotionless. "I have to be going.... I've got some things to do at the restaurant."  
  
Sydney stared at her friend. She didn't feel like she even knew her anymore.  
  
"Are you okay? You've been really quiet lately, and you've been working a lot lately too."  
  
Her friend's face forced a smile. "Everything's fine Syd. You worry too much. Have a wonderful time."  
  
She repeated that phrase, almost like she didn't think Sydney was going to have a good time.  
  
As Sydney said good-bye, Francie left.  
  
What Sydney didn't see was her friend pull out her cell phone as soon as she left the house.  
  
She also didn't hear her talking to the enemy.  
  
"She's wearing it." Francie's clone said.  
  
"The necklace?" The voice on the other end asked. His British accent was unmistakable.  
  
"Yes, Her date's late, have you picked him up?"  
  
"Yes, we have Mr. Vaughn."  
  
"Good, I'm leaving now." Francie said, and hung up.  
  
Her job was done for the day..and maybe forever.  
~*~*~*~*~  
Sydney ran the brush through her hair one more time and straightened the pendant around her neck as the car outside beeped. Michael must be here.  
  
She was quite surprised as she stepped out of the house and saw the stylish limousine parked in her drive. Michael really was being generous.  
  
Sydney turned on her porch-light, as it was already dark and she probably wouldn't be home before Francie. Then she locked the door, slipped the keys into her thin black handbag and was shocked to hear a voice behind her.  
  
"You look lovely tonight Miss Bristow." The voice called across her lawn.  
  
Sydney froze in indignation and terror. She could tell without even looking exactly where the voice behind her was, the distance from herself, to him, to the limousine he was standing by. Measuring her chances she prepared to move into action, until he spoke again.  
  
"I don't think you'll want to go back inside until you look at me."  
  
Sydney gritted her teeth, and prepared for anything as she turned slowly around to face one of her worst enemies.  
  
"That's the ticket." Sark said as he smiled supremely and motioned to one of the guards standing close by.  
  
Sydney mentally counted the guards, the guns, and searched for any other hidden weapons. What she wasn't expecting was for that guard to pull Michael out of the limo.  
  
She gasped. The guard stuck his gun to Vaughn's forehead. His mouth was gagged, and his hands were bound in front of him.  
  
"Now Miss Bristow, don't make any sudden movements, noises, or any other tricky ideas you get into your head." Sark suddenly had a gun in his hand, and from the glow of the porch-light, Sydney could see the barrel pointed her way.  
  
"Just step out into the yard, that's right, just like that..hands where I can see them..good. Now stand right there."  
  
Sydney glared at Sark as a guard patted her down. Then he ripped her handbag away and handed it to Sark.  
  
"She's clear." The guard told Sark.  
  
"What do you want Sark?" Sydney finally spoke, hate dripping off her every word. "What game are you playing at now?"  
  
"Oh, it's no game Miss Bristow." He answered, his tone mock threatening. "Just come with me, and I'll explain everything."  
  
"Only if Vaughn comes too." Sydney argued, not moving.  
  
"Don't make this hard Sydney, just get in the limo. I don't want to shoot your little boyfriend here."  
  
Sydney linked eyes with Vaughn. She tried to read the emotion in them but failed. He obviously felt the same was she did..frustrated and confused.  
  
She walked forward, her heels clicking loudly in the silence. She slowed as she approached Vaughn, and his bound hand brushed hers. He caught her eye again, and she felt something metal transferred from his hand into hers.  
  
"I love you." She whispered, as she quickly moved her hand to her chest, letting the metal object fall into her bra.  
  
He nodded to say the same thing.  
  
"I'm sorry.."  
  
"Please Miss Bristow, we're on a schedule here." Sark called.  
  
"You have to show me that you aren't going to harm Vaughn before I go anywhere with you."  
  
"I think you're forgetting who has the gun here." Sark barked, his patience finally beginning to wear thin. He muttered something to the guard next to Vaughn, who in turn swiftly brought the butt of his gun over Michael's head.  
  
Sydney almost screamed as Michael slumped unconscious to the ground.  
  
"We aren't going to kill him." Sark said, as he watched Sydney with a constant amused expression. "Now, if you will.."  
  
He held out his free hand to help her into the limo, the other one still holding the gun up to her head.  
  
Sydney pushed his hand away with rage and stepped very ungracefully into the limousine. "Don't touch me you son of a bitch."  
  
This night wasn't turning out at all like it should be.  
~*~*~*~*~  
Sark slammed the limo door as he climbed in after Sydney. She heard the click of the locks, and leaned back into her seat helplessly. She had been so stupid. She should have handled the situation differently...  
  
She let her eyes fall on the unmoving figure on her lawn. Tears were brimming in her eyes and she started mentally criticizing herself, and silently cursing Sark, her mother, the agency, Sloane, and anyone else she could think of.  
  
Questions raced through her mind. Why would Sark want to kidnap her? Wasn't he just putting himself into more jeopardy? What was it that Vaughn had passed her, that now rested coldly against her breast?  
  
She hoped someone would find Vaughn soon and help him, so that he could report it immediately to her father. For all she knew, no one but Vaughn knew about this. She hoped Francie was going to be okay.  
  
Sydney felt his eyes on her, burning into her like fire.  
  
She refused to look at him. Even if she was his hostage, it didn't mean she had to cooperate with him. She had always been good at pushing his limits.  
  
As if reading her thoughts, Sark leaned across the isle to see her better.  
  
"You're mine now Sydney." He whispered. "Don't be difficult."  
  
Sydney forced herself to look at him.  
  
"I didn't kill agent Vaughn because I knew that you wouldn't cooperate at all if I had done that. So consider yourself and Mr. Vaughn lucky." He chuckled sickeningly. "You are so stubborn sometimes."  
  
"Don't talk like you know me, Sark." Sydney's words were quiet and steady, the anger evident in her tone. "I'm not yours, and I will never be yours."  
  
"Ah, I forgot, you're taken aren't you? Everything going well between you and Mr. Vaughn?" He taunted.  
  
Sydney glared at him, her eyes filled with rage, and connected with his brilliant blue eyes. They stood out against the soft light in the limo, and as usual his hair was perfect, and his crisp suit was wrinkleless. He half smiled as Sydney was thrown off guard by how close they suddenly seemed to be. She hated that smile, it made him look so evil and sexy at the same time. Realizing how long her thoughts were dwelling on his appearance she mentally slapped herself, not believing that she had just thought him 'sexy'.  
  
"Keep your nose out of my personal life." She said, her voice cracking annoyingly.  
  
"And tell me why you've ruined my evening." She demanded.  
  
Sark's face lit up like a little boys. She had never seen him so content as tonight.  
  
"The answer is right there around your neck." Sark answered, moving his eyes slowly down her face as she watched him, and finally resting them on her necklace.  
  
Her mother's necklace.  
~*~*~*~*~  
A/N: Don't forget to review! 


	2. Truth

Disclaimer: The due credit goes to J.J. Abrams and all the other people who work so hard to make Alias as wonderful as it is. In other words, me not own.  
  
A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews. I read and loved every one of them! Keep em coming!  
  
Blue Coincidences  
  
Chapter 2 Truth  
~*~*~*~*~  
Sydney closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. If she didn't calm herself, she would probably try to strangle Sark and get herself killed.  
  
"What does my necklace have to do with anything?" She asked, working hard on keeping her hands away from Sark's neck.  
  
Sark eyed the jewelry with a lust like Sydney had never seen before.  
  
"Everything." He said, as if it was obvious. "I know who gave it to you."  
  
Sydney's head snapped up and she stared at Sark with disdain. He couldn't know. . . . but then again, Sydney's mother had just disappeared. Her father expected that she had planned it all along, conveniently using the CIA to get one of the Rambaldi artifacts and then collaborating with Sloane.  
  
The only way Sark could know about the necklace would be through her . . . .  
  
"Your mother?"  
  
Sark had been speaking quietly for a moment, naming the same person she had finally put trust in, only to have her turn on her. Then again, maybe she had turned long before Sydney had ever received the necklace. Maybe her mother had planned this out a very long time ago. . . .  
  
Sark's words brought her back to the present.  
  
"Although the necklace looks so delicious around your neck it's going to be hard taking it off."  
  
Sydney suddenly felt sick. She suddenly didn't care if Sark took the necklace from her or not.  
  
"My mother. . . ." She began, her voice faltering for a second. "Did she give me the necklace when I was only a child, the whole time having a scheme like this in mind?"  
  
She hadn't really expected Sark to answer her muttered question.  
  
"I doubt she planned for it to happen exactly like this. . . . but if it works. . . ."  
  
"What is it then?" Sydney snapped. "The necklace, I mean."  
  
"Why it's the final piece to the puzzle." Sark said, giving Sydney a strange glance. "I would have thought that you knew."  
  
"Knew what?" She retorted harshly.  
  
Sark hesitated, but covered it by smirking broadly instead.  
  
"That you have one of Rambaldi's most prized artifacts around your neck."  
  
His words stunned Sydney. She fell back speechless against the leather seat in deep thought, for a moment forgetting the pressing predicament she was in.  
  
How could her mother do that? Leave a necklace that dangerous in a child's possession.  
  
Sydney picked up the opal and stared into it, wondering what power it held that Sark found so important. Maybe it was a key of some sort, or maybe there was a hidden compartment in it. She ran her fingers swiftly over it, feeling for hidden cracks or switches but found nothing.  
  
Feeling Sark's gaze on her again, she looked into his brilliant blue eyes, watching them glitter as the light hit them exactly the right way. . . . just like the opal.  
  
The shadows on his face made his eyes stand out even more, and Sydney stared at him stupidly, lost in her own grief and shock.  
  
"Sydney." He said, her name flowing easily off his tongue. He laid his hand on top of hers, and she resisted pulling away, even though his touched seem to burn her skin like fire. "Let's make this easy. Just hand me the necklace and sit quietly as we ride and everything will be fine."  
  
Why not? Sydney asked herself. Everything was so screwed up in her life. The necklace didn't mean anything to her anymore . . . . and neither did her mother. She had used an innocent little child, putting Sydney's own life in danger for her own mother's selfish reasons. What would it hurt to just give Sark the necklace and hope to get away as soon as possible?  
  
Then common sense seemed to hit her. Giving Sark the opal was a very stupid idea, and could cost hundreds of other innocent lives for all she knew. Sark obviously needed it for important reasons, or else he wouldn't have gone through all the trouble. She couldn't let him have it . . . . no agent in their right mind would willfully give Mr. Sark a Rambaldi artifact, if that's really what it was.  
  
Sark was still waiting for her answer, watching her with great interest.  
  
"No." Sydney said firmly, wrapping her fingers tightly around the opal. "Not while I'm still alive."  
  
"Be careful what you ask for, Miss Bristow. It can surely be arranged."  
  
His tone had become threatening and angry. He was clinching and releasing his fists, his fingers itching for the necklace. . . . his fingers longing to touch Sydney.  
  
Sydney slid silently away from him, careful not to back herself up in a corner, but still wary of her surroundings.  
  
She knew where the gun was tucked into his black coat, she had secretly watched him put it away.  
  
"Sydney, you can't win here." His voice was becoming even more stressed. "Let me help you take it off."  
  
Sark leaped at her, standing as well as he could in the limo, and holding Sydney firmly against the seat with both hands. His face was only inches away from her own, and Sydney could smell his after-shave.  
  
"I don't want to hurt you." He whispered.  
  
Sydney could see the gun, as he leaned over.  
  
"Okay." She said evenly. "Help me un-clasp it."  
  
Big mistake. He had followed her train of thought exactly as Sydney reached for the gun.  
  
He caught her hand as it dived into his jacket, and gripped it with force, throwing her back again and straddling her against himself and the seat.  
  
"I didn't want to have to do this. But you give me no choice."  
  
She breathed heavily, his wait was crushing her, and his touch was sending unwanted emotions through her body.  
  
He kept his gaze on her the whole time as he grabbed her hair, reached around her neck, and released the necklace. It fell into his greedy hands and he smiled triumphantly.  
  
"Pity," He began, his tone dominant and deep. "Now I have to get off you."  
  
Sydney glared at him with hate, and he ran his hand down the side of her face, making her body tremble with what she hoped was disgust. . . . although she knew it wasn't the truth. Sark definitely wasn't hard on the eyes.  
  
His smile broadened with satisfaction as he felt Sydney quaver at his touch. She wanted to kill herself right then, but could only sit with helplessness.  
  
"Get off me." She said, using the best threatening tone that she could. "Or I'll . . . . "  
  
"You'll what?" Sark taunted, but relenting and moving slowly off the straddling position.  
  
Sydney didn't answer, but this time she did back into the corner of the limo, sinking into the shadows to avoid having to see Sark's smirk.  
  
But still she felt his blue eyes on her. . . . always watching.  
~*~*~*~*~  
A/N: Thanks to my wonderful reviewers:  
  
April, Masquerade, Sarkie47, black.Hawk, Wishing Star, Taya, SassyAngel05, char, redheadgrl, Brittany, Essie, Jade Symphony, meg, intriKate, and screen names are tacky  
  
Thanks for the support! (and yes, this is headed in the S/S direction if you haven't figured that out by this chapter. Hehe.) 


	3. Far From Home

Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, yada yada yada.  
Blue Coincidences  
  
Chapter 3 Awaking  
~*~*~*~*~  
~At LA's local hospital~  
"He's coming around."  
  
"Shh. . . . Everyone quiet down!"  
  
"Excuse me, I need to check his blood-pressure!"  
  
Vaughn couldn't recognize any of the voices. They all seemed to roll into a painful pounding in his ears. He slowly opened his heavy eyelids and surveyed the brightly lit room. The walls were white, and had an ugly, cheap border running along the ceiling.  
  
It had to be a hospital room.  
  
Everything came back then.  
  
Everything came into focus.  
  
Sydney's voice wasn't in the room.  
  
"Where's Sydney!?"  
  
Vaughn's panicked voice broke through the concerned whispers in the room, and he pushed the nurse's inspecting hands away. The dead silence that followed gave him the answer.  
  
"She's gone isn't she?" His voice could barely be heard.  
  
Jack Bristow stepped forward.  
  
"We need to know what happened Vaughn. I've got to find my daughter."  
~*~*~*~*~  
"We've got a long journey Miss Bristow. Please drink this."  
  
Sydney stared at the mug of steaming coffee in Sark's hands.  
  
"No thank you."  
  
"I'm not giving you a choice."  
  
"I don't care."  
  
Sark sighed deeply and frowned.  
  
"You can be quite difficult Sydney."  
  
"I would prefer that you not use my first name." Sydney replied coldly.  
  
"I don't ever remember giving you authority to tell me what to do." Sark replied, meeting her cold tone.  
  
"Now drink this, or I'll find other ways of knocking you out."  
  
Sydney looked at the drink in surprise. It made since now. He wanted her to drink the coffee, which now, obviously, had some drugs in it to make her unconscious.  
  
"It's only for your own safety. And my precaution." Sark said, as though it were the easiest thing in the world. "Plus, we don't need you seeing our facility, if you were to get out, which," He leaned forward again, and in a jovial manner finished, "Won't happen, we don't want you to have seen our nice little hide-away."  
  
Sydney glared with a vengeance, and tore the cup away from him. She would rather be asleep than awake right now anyway. She couldn't stop thinking about her mother, and the last conversation they had.  
  
"I want you to know that I love you." Her mother had said.  
  
How could a loving mother leave a Rambaldi artifact with her only daughter, knowing one day that her daughter could be killed for it?  
  
Sydney drank with relish.  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
~Back at CIA Headquarters~  
Vaughn was now sitting in a comfortable chair in Kendall's office. He had refused to stay at the hospital, much to the doctor's dismay.  
  
"I was dressed and had just left my apartment, when two men came from behind me, stuck a gun to my head, and forced me into Sark's limo."  
  
Vaughn spaced his words apart, making sure he said everything correctly, and hoping that his mind would be back to full order again soon. He just had to help in finding Sydney.  
  
Kendall and Jack listened intently. Jack Bristow was looking extremely worried. They had sent out a team over an hour ago to search for the Sydney, the limo, and Sark. There had been no good news.  
  
"They bound my wrists and ankles." Vaughn continued. "And then we arrived at Sydney's house."  
  
Vaughn looked down, so the other men couldn't see his watering eyes.  
  
"I yelled things of all sorts at Sark. I told him if he touched Sydney I would kill him myself. All I got in return for my threats were blows to the stomach."  
  
Jack winced and Kendall nodded.  
  
"Then they forced me out of the limo, and Sark pointed a gun at Sydney as she came out of the house. I think she had been expecting only me. Then Sark walked her to the limo, and I brushed her hand, and gave her the only weapon I could."  
  
Jack looked up in surprise. "You had a weapon?"  
  
"No." Vaughn responded. "It was my apartment key. I still had it in my hands when the guys got me. I don't think Sark ever saw Sydney tuck it away."  
  
He sighed in anguish. "Then they knocked me out and Sydney was gone."  
  
"Are there any other details you can remember? Any little clue that might help us? Did Sark say anything to you or the other men after they took you?"  
  
"No, he was silent the whole way there. I was the only one who said anything. And that was to tell him exactly how I felt about him and Sloane."  
  
Jack sighed and spoke at last.  
  
"Keep thinking Vaughn."  
  
Tears were running down his face.  
~*~*~*~*~  
When Sydney came to, and her eyes adjusted, she found that she was in an utterly depressing room. She was also handcuffed, her arms twisted around to her back and behind the chair she was in.  
  
The walls were concrete, as was the floor. There was a jail-like bed that looked to be screwed down to the ground. Upon inspection, Sydney found that the chair she was sitting in was also screwed down to the floor. There was a large, dull green divider, standing upright in the corner, and Sydney supposed there was a toilet and sink back there. There was a window opposite where Sydney was sitting. It was a few feet long, and more narrow than most. A table about the size of an office desk rested under the window, and a chute led from a small opening above the table. It was probably a chute to put food through.  
  
She couldn't see anyone on the other side of the window. And the door was made of steel.  
  
This made it look like Sydney was going to be staying here for a long time. Sark had his precious necklace now, so why didn't he just dispose of Sydney? It didn't make any since.  
  
"Crap." Sydney said aloud to herself.  
  
Just then the door banged open, and the person she least wanted to see walked in.  
  
"I hope you've found your new accommodations satisfying."  
  
Sark said this with a smile, as if she were staying in one of the ritziest hotels in Los Angeles.  
  
"It's just extravagant." Sydney replied, sarcasm dripping off every word.  
  
"You know me," He said with a smirk. "I like to impress my women." He sat down in the chair in front of Sydney. "Especially you darling."  
  
Sydney scowled.  
  
"Now, down to business." Sark began.  
  
"Whatever you want, Sark, you're not getting. I'm not cooperating at all." Sydney interrupted.  
  
"We'll see about that." His smirk broadened.  
  
He folded his hands behind his head, and leaned back, a strange seriousness in his eyes.  
  
"How old where you when your mother gave you that necklace?"  
  
Sydney refused to answer his question. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and stared intently at Sark. It was her way of being stubborn.  
  
After a moments silence, Sydney adjusted her wrists, for the handcuffs were beginning to cut into them. An idea came to her then. She would use Sark to get what she needed.  
  
"Are you afraid of me Sark?" She asked, acting like she had never heard his question.  
  
Sark narrowed his eyes as well, and his smirk dropped.  
  
"Answer my question Miss Bristow."  
  
"Only if you answer mine."  
  
Sark hesitated only long enough before replying. "No, I am not."  
  
"Then," Sydney replied, spacing her words apart determinedly. "Why do you have me handcuffed, unless you're afraid for your own safety?"  
  
To her surprise Sark burst out in laughter.  
  
"I keep forgetting, Sydney," Sark said expressing his amusement. "How very clever you are."  
  
It'll be your downfall, Sydney thought silently.  
  
"Quite clever indeed. No, I am not afraid of you agent Bristow, yet I don't need any unwanted and pointless hostility from you, and therefore I think it would be easiest to talk to you like this. Please answer my question now."  
  
Sydney gritted her teeth, and withheld her rage. He had guessed her intentions correctly. But still she would not reply with his sought information.  
  
"Sydney." She hated the soothing way he said her name, the way it rolled easily out of his mouth, the pureness of it. "I will get that information. Don't make me force it out of you."  
  
Despite herself, Sydney felt her pulse quicken. Silence followed in the room, and Sark never moved.  
  
She could feel the perspiration beginning to form on her forehead. It was hot, but not enough to make her sweat. He would know that she was nervous. Sydney wanted nothing more than to be home again. With her father, even with Kendall, and Marshall with his vain attempts at humor, and Dixon with his steadily increasing trust. . . . and Vaughn, and the wonderful friendship the two of them share.  
  
Sydney was surprised to only be thinking of her and Vaughn's relationship as a friendship. Before it had meant everything to her. But sitting here, in front of Sark, everything that had happened before seemed so trivial.  
  
"I'm going to count backwards from five," Sark's voice broke into her thoughts. "When I get to one, you will be in a memory, when your mother gave you the necklace. . . .  
  
"NO!" Sydney screamed. He couldn't do this to her! He couldn't force information out of her by way of hypnotism!  
  
"Don't you dare Sark, I swear I'll kill you!" Her voice was rushed and panicked, she could feel the blood rushing to her face.  
  
Sark whipped forward, grabbed her chin in his hands and tilted her head back. "Then tell me Sydney." He said, his voice a menacing whisper. "How old where you when your mother gave you that necklace!?"  
  
Sydney clinched her jaw tight, and ripped her chin away from his hand. She couldn't stand the thumping she got in her heart, or the flopping of her stomach when he touched her.  
  
"I was maybe five or six."  
~*~*~*~*~  
A/N: I am so enjoying writing this fic that I will probably continue it even after the next Alias episode, because I won't get it finished most likely before then. Thank you all for the awesome reviews! They mean the world to me!  
  
Thanks to:  
  
Brittany, meg, Sarkie47, IntriKate, Essie, april, screen names are tacky (thanks for the grammar correction. My mind must not have been working right . . .) , jade_symphony, Mnemosyne, fly, and Masquerade. 


	4. Being Honest

Blue Coincidences  
  
Chapter 4 Being Honest  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sark's eyes lit up.  
  
"Now tell me exactly what your mother said to you when she gave you the necklace."  
  
Sydney inwardly groaned. She was still in her expensive black dress, and her high-heeled strap shoes were cutting into her feet.  
  
"I don't know! That was a long time ago!"  
  
"You've got to remember." Sark said, his forehead wrinkling in deep thought. "Or else you can stay attached to that chair until you do."  
  
A surge of resentment flew through Sydney and she stomped her feet angrily.  
  
"I don't remember! And I won't remember, at least not until you un-cuff me!"  
  
She was trying her approach at buying her way out of the cuffs again.  
  
Sark pressed his finger up to his ear and talked into the hidden radio. "Station a dozen guards around the entrance. I'm releasing agent Bristow's handcuffs. Tell them that if by some mere chance she escapes that she is to be shot dead."  
  
Sydney rolled her eyes. How ridiculous. She had already determined that Sark didn't have a gun in the room with him, that the door was locked and hardly able to be broken down, seeing as how it was metal, and the window was unbreakable. The least she could do was strangle Sark. Which wasn't going to get her very far.  
  
Sark continued, "And send in some clothes and food."  
  
Almost immediately, the chute under the window opened, and a bundle of clothes were pushed through, followed by some simple tennis shoes, and then finally a tray of food.  
  
Sark stood up and walked around Sydney, taking the small cuff key from his pocket.  
  
"I'm not going to tolerate stupidity, Sydney. So don't try anything cute." He said, his voice low and steady.  
  
Sydney felt the click of the lock, and let Sark remove them fully, and come back around to sit down again, before pulling her arms around to the front.  
  
There were red rings around her wrists, and before she knew what was happening, Sark had reached out and grabbed one of her hands.  
  
"Just to get the blood flowing again."  
  
And with strong, agile fingers, he gently massaged her wrist as Sydney watched with mixed emotions.  
  
He smiled up at her, actually smiled as though they were on a date or something.  
  
Sydney tore her arm away from him, his touch was just too much, and his eager eyes would lead to no good.  
  
"I can do it myself." She murmured.  
  
Sark stood up, stared down at Sydney for a moment to long for her comfort, and then walked swiftly and surely over to the table. He grabbed the bundle of clothes and food.  
  
He held the food and tossed Sydney the bundle. It consisted of some soft, designer jeans, and a plain white shirt.  
  
"I'm sure you're uncomfortable. You can change now if you would like." Sark said, still standing with the food, like it was a normal thing for girls to undress in front of him.  
  
"Since when are you concerned with how comfortable I am?" Sydney replied harshly. "Get out then."  
  
Sark nodded to the divider in the corner of the room. "Dress back there. I'll turn around to if it makes a difference."  
  
Sydney glared at his attempt of generosity. But the dreadful shoes were killing her, and the dress wasn't really made for sitting around in a prison room.  
  
Finally she stood up, meeting eye-level with Sark.  
  
"I wasn't lying earlier when I said that you looked beautiful tonight. I almost wanted to take you to dinner myself." He smirked.  
  
"I wouldn't be caught dead in public with you." Sydney cut back.  
  
Sark didn't drop his smirk. He handed Sydney the tennis shoes, and she turned abruptly to the divider.  
  
As she had guessed, a sort of bathroom lay behind it. At least there was a toilet and an old porcelain sink too. She quickly shed the dress, slipped on the shirt, which fitted perfectly and comfortably, then unlaced her heels. She threw the dress over the divider, and then slipped on the jeans and tennis shoes. They were also the right size.  
  
It was then that she remembered the object Vaughn had slipped to her. She reached into her bra, and fished around for it. After feeling something metal touch her fingers, she brought it out and stared. It was his apartment key. She didn't know what good a key was going to do her, but at least she still felt that she had a part of someone she knew with her. The loneliness wouldn't be quite as hard anymore, as long as she was alive anyway.  
  
Reluctantly she slipped the key back into her bra and stepped out.  
  
Sark was still there, patiently holding her dinner.  
  
He raised his eyebrows as she went to sit down. "Better?"  
  
"I'm still here, so no."  
  
One part of his mouth curled upward in amusement. He thrust the food at her.  
  
"I'm not hungry."  
  
"Are you tired?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Will you answer some of my questions?"  
  
"No."  
  
Sark slammed the dinner onto the table in a fashion of anger and impatience.  
  
"I'll be back later. And you will tell me."  
  
"You'd have to kill me first."  
  
Sark gave her a look like he wouldn't mind killing her, radioed in for the door to be opened, slipped through and left. Sydney watched the door slam close in the blink of an eye.  
  
She screamed in frustration and beat her hands against the wall.  
~*~*~*~*~  
Sark held the enchanting opal delicately in his hands and stared long and hard at it.  
  
What secret did this long-lost Rambaldi artifact hold? Irina Bristow had told them of the necklace, and that it was in Sydney's possession, but she had refused to stay once they had made plans to take it from Sydney.  
  
Irina had exchanged the information for the freedom to leave, although she would stay loyal to Sloane, of that he was sure. He felt that she didn't want to be around them when she knew that her only daughter was locked up not far away.  
  
Sark felt Sloane approach, and glanced up.  
  
"Magnificent isn't it?" Sloane said, referring to the necklace.  
  
"I've never seen anything like it." Sark agreed. "I just wish we knew how to work it. Is there nothing in the manuscript about it?"  
  
Sloane sighed. "Unfortunately there isn't much. It only said, that the one who wears it knows the secret."  
  
"But Sydney says that she knows nothing. And I don't think it's an act." Sark argued.  
  
"You're going to have to push her. It was a long time ago. I wish I hadn't allowed Irina to leave until we were sure that we knew all of this opal's secrets."  
  
"You haven't heard anything from her then?" Sark asked.  
  
"No, she has disappeared." Sloane frowned. "It doesn't surprise me really. The woman won't stay put."  
  
"Not many do." Sark said.  
  
The opal glittered innocently in his hand.  
~*~*~*~*~  
Sydney sat down on the hard bed. She had let her emotions take control of her common sense, and the results showed plainly on her hands. Screaming and beating on the door wasn't going to help any. It had been irrational, and she chastised herself. And now she had bloody hands to show for it.  
  
There was a towel next to the sink, and Sydney wet it, and wrapped it as best she could around both hands, applying pressure to try and stop the bleeding.  
  
Some sense told her that she was being watched, and sure enough, there was Sark, staring in at her through the window.  
  
The chute opened and a roll of gauze was pushed through. Sydney stared at it a moment, and then slowly walked over to the table and took it.  
  
She caught Sark's eye for a moment as she turned away, but refused to give him any sort of thanks. Instead, she slumped down onto her hard mattress and did her best to wrap her hands with the bandages.  
  
Suddenly the door swung open and he stepped quietly inside.  
  
Sydney gave him her best glare, and turned back to her injured hands.  
  
"Can I help?" Sark asked.  
  
"Oh, like all of the other help you've given me so far?" Sydney asked sarcastically. "No thanks, I can handle it by myself."  
  
Sark shrugged, and stood with his hands tucked into his pockets. Sydney found his stare annoying, and turned to snap at him. He walked up slowly, and for a second she forgot what she was about to say. Just his presence made her heart race.  
  
He stood directly above her, those blue eyes taking in her lovely features.  
  
Sydney fumbled with the gauze under his gaze. It frustrated her that he had such an effect on her mind and body.  
  
"Are you sure you don't want help?" Sark asked again, his voice a soft whisper.  
  
When Sydney didn't answer, he sunk onto the bed next to her, and gently pulled the bandages out of her shaking hand.  
  
After perfectly wrapping her palms, Sark looked up. He ran his hand through Sydney's hair.  
  
"There. Everything's okay now." He said softly.  
  
"No it's not." Sydney replied, without any enthusiasm.  
  
She went to stand up; she couldn't be so close to him for something wrong was bound to happen. But he caught her arm, and pulled her back down to him.  
  
His lips crashed onto hers, and Sydney waited for her reflexes to kick in and push him away.  
  
Oddly enough, no reflexes fought back. She gave in completely to Sark, savoring the flashes of heat that radiated between them. He craved her, and Sydney knew it. His hungry kiss gave it all away. He leaned in farther and pushed her down with surprising force.  
  
Which was when Sydney's reflexes did kick in.  
  
She rolled out from under him and onto the floor with a soft flump. She quickly stood up, her eyes a fiery blaze.  
  
"Get out Sark!" She yelled, pointing to the door as he stood up. "How dare you try to take advantage of me!"  
  
"I wasn't doing anything that you weren't replying back to!" Sark argued. He progressed towards her, and Sydney suddenly found herself up against the wall, with him only inches away.  
  
"You can't stand it can you Sydney?" He asked, his tone frighteningly smooth. "You don't want to admit that you feel exactly the way I do."  
  
Sydney stared at him in horror.  
  
"If you think that I'm attracted to you, then your ego's much bigger than I thought!"  
  
Sark only shook his head. "Your stubbornness can't hide the obvious truth."  
  
Sydney feared the honesty of his statement.  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Thanks again to all reviewers! 


	5. Seeing Blue

A/N: This is set after 'A Dark Turn' and before 'Truth Takes Time' (aired 03/16/03) . Sort of set right in the middle. It's my own account of what might have happened, and an excuse to write a S/S fic. Hehe. This is the longest chapter yet, in compensation for not posting as often as I have wanted to. Hope you all like. Please review!  
  
Blue Coincidences  
  
Chapter 5 Seeing Blue  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Thinking was not something Sydney wanted to do.  
  
But, she realized, sitting here in this room, there was nothing to do except think. Think about Vaughn, her father, her mother and the way she had betrayed them all, and finally Sark and the kiss they had shared.  
  
He had left angrily two days ago now, warning her that he'd be back for the information he needed. Which led her thinking to the opal.  
  
What was it's secret? What remarkable power did it hold? It was frustrating, not knowing what the opal could be used for.  
  
Sydney tried with all her heart and mind to recall what her mother had told her about that opal so long ago. But the memory had slipped from her mind, and had been replaced with pain and suffering when her father had explained the bad news of her mother's apparent death.  
  
To keep her mind off so many depressing things, Sydney completed a full and vigorous workout in her cell. She did crunches, push-ups, sit-ups, and every kind of exercise she could do without her gym equipment. She had to maintain her strength in case of any possible escape.  
  
After pushing her body to extremes, she finally collapsed on her bed, staring up at the tiled ceiling. She uninterestedly began counting the tiles, for lack of anything better to do.  
  
That's when the idea came to her. The tiles looked removable, meaning she might actually have a way of escape. She stood up on her bed, and was disappointed to find that she was quite a few feet too short to even reach the ceiling. But if she could then she would be able to push up on a tile, move it, squeeze through the hole, crawl through the duct or whatever was up there, try to get the opal back and escape! It was a very risky plan, but after what happened between Sark and herself, Sydney was ready to try anything.  
  
Glancing quickly into the window to make sure that no one was watching, she climbed up on the table in front. Still she wasn't tall enough. If only the chairs weren't screwed down to the floor, she would be able to stack them and reach the tiles.  
  
Hopping down, she went to inspect the chairs.  
~*~*~*~*~  
When Sark wasn't in with Sydney, trying to force information out of her, or just to look at her, he found himself in front of the opal, which sparkled innocently in it's glass case.  
  
If only the manuscript had explained more clearly what part the opal played in the whole scenario, Sark thought dispiritedly.  
  
His cell phone rang, and he snatched it off his belt.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Mr. Sark." The voice acknowledged knowingly.  
  
"Irina!" Sark exclaimed. They hadn't seen or heard a word from her since taking in Sydney. "Where are you?"  
  
"I'm not at liberty to disclose my location right now if you understand. I was just calling to check up on how you're doing with the opal."  
  
"Well, we have it, but Sydney isn't cooperating." He started walking towards the main security building.  
  
"That's not surprising." Irina said easily. "Mr. Sark, the real reason for my calling is to make sure of something." She said quietly. "And don't bother trying to trace the call, it won't take that long."  
  
"Go on." Sark said.  
  
"I want you to promise me that you won't harm Sydney."  
  
Sark was taken aback. Since when had she cared so much about Sydney?  
  
"Mr. Sark," Irina said in his silence. "Swear to me that you won't allow anyone to hurt her." She paused. "Or else I may be forced to reveal to the CIA your exact location."  
  
Sark knew that he should never have allowed Sloane to involve Irina in their scheme. Although, if they hadn't, they wouldn't have the manuscript or the opal.  
  
"Alright." Sark had no choice but to agree. "But in return would you tell me the secret of the opal?"  
  
Sark could almost imagine Irina smiling on the other end. "Sydney remembers, she may not have understood at the time, but she should remember."  
  
"I don't think. . ."  
  
"Good-bye Mr. Sark." She interrupted. "Don't break your word."  
  
Sark heard the soft click on the other line, and listened to the hollow silence.  
  
They had wasted enough time.  
  
He would make Sydney remember.  
~*~*~*~*~  
The door banged open and Sydney heard the clop of Sark's shoes against the hard floor.  
  
Sydney had been inspecting the screws that held down the chairs. She acted like she had dropped the small silver ring she had put on for her date, and stood up slowly to face Sark.  
  
He held a pair of cuffs in his hand.  
  
"Sit down Miss Bristow."  
  
"You've got to be kidding." Sydney replied. "Are you really that desperate Sark?"  
  
"I'm desperate for information Miss Bristow, but I'm not sure if that's what you were referring to."  
  
"Now sit down." He repeated.  
  
Sydney did something she later thought of as stupid.  
  
Taking a chance, she spun around the chair and leapt at him, swinging her leg forward, and throwing her foot into Sark's stomach.  
  
He crunched frontward and shuffled back at the same time, clutching at his abdomen. Sydney ran up, preparing to knock him out, when the door opened again and five armed guards stormed into the room.  
  
She was suddenly staring down the barrel of five guns, and she knew there was more behind.  
  
Sark glared at her, and tossed the handcuffs to a guard.  
  
"Cuff her to the chair." He said breathlessly.  
  
Two other guards advanced on Sydney, guns outstretched, while the one with the cuffs pushed her into the chair and slapped one end of them around her wrist, and the other to the chair.  
  
"Now leave."  
  
The guards did as they were told, and with a pained look, Sark straightened up.  
  
He walked leisurely over to where Sydney was fixed, he leaned down, propping his hands against each arm of the chair, and stuck his face in front of hers.  
  
"That wasn't funny Miss Bristow."  
  
"Neither was that little stunt you pulled the other day." Sydney retorted, the fire returning to her eyes. "Don't ever touch me again."  
  
Sark shook his head, smirking eagerly. He lifted one of his hands and ran it smoothly down the side of Sydney's cheek. Her breath caught in her throat and she gripped the arms of her chair until her knuckles turned white.  
  
She could smell the refreshing scent of his after-shave.  
  
"I'm going to give you one more chance." He said, letting his hand drift down her neck, his eyes following her. "You know something about the opal. Tell me what you know."  
  
Sydney watched his hand run down her shoulder, tenderly caressing the skin on her arm.  
  
"I don't know." Sydney was dismayed to find her voice quavering. "I've told you this already. I can't remember."  
  
"Then you must understand. . . ." Sark said, laying his hand firmly against Sydney's arm. "I'm going to have to. . . ."  
  
Sydney knew. He was going to pull it from her memory by way of hypnotism. She was ready to give up anyway. If after this he would leave her alone, then she might as well allow it.  
  
"I'm going to count backwards from five." He began. "After I reach one you will be in a memory, when your mother was still alive, when she gave you the necklace."  
  
"Five, four, three," As the numbers progressed Sydney allowed her eyes to close and her mind to sink.  
  
"Two." His voice was becoming stronger, a picture becoming clearer.  
  
"One."  
  
Suddenly, Sydney was in a different room, looking at a younger version of herself and her mother.  
  
She recognized the room as their old living room. Her father was nowhere in sight.  
  
"Sydney."  
  
It was her mother's voice. Both young Sydney and adult Sydney turned to face her mother.  
  
Sark's voice cut into her thoughts. "Tell me what she says."  
  
Sydney leaned forward obediently, studying her mother, and the thing she held in her hand.  
  
"I have something for you Sydney." Irina said.  
  
"Really?" Sydney's younger self exclaimed. She was probably five or so. "What is it mommy?" Her voice was cheerful and excited, much more so than Irina's.  
  
"A very very old and valuable necklace." Irina responded. Sydney felt like she was watching an old movie through a window. She remembered everything so clearly now.  
  
The opal gleamed brilliantly in her mother's outstretched hand. The little girl cooed admiringly.  
  
"Wow!" She exclaimed. "Where did you get this mommy?"  
  
"I've had it for a long time." Her mother's face looked worn and tired. "I want you to have it now, just in case."  
  
"In case of what?"  
  
Irina paused, and stroked her daughter's head lovingly. "In case something were to happen to mommy."  
  
Sydney could almost see the tears in her mother's eyes.  
  
"But don't you worry." Irina continued after seeing the questioning look her daughter gave her. "Look, it's kind of a good luck charm." She said, changing the subject.  
  
"A charm?"  
  
"Sort of. It will keep you healthy for a very long time, if used correctly." She smiled playfully. "But don't tell anyone that."  
  
"What?" The little girl looked confused.  
  
"That necklace holds the secret for immortality. Meaning that you won't ever die. But that's only if you know all the other secrets."  
  
The younger Sydney laughed. "That's silly mommy. No one can live forever."  
  
Her mother laughed too. "Yes, it does seem impossible doesn't it?" A faraway look passed over her. "But maybe not so impossible one day. Once all the other pieces are found, then this necklace is the final one. Don't ever let anyone take it from you. Keep it hidden and secret."  
  
Her daughter nodded. "I'll put it in my little jewelry box!"  
  
"Good." Her mother said. And then as an afterthought, "And keep it out of bright lights, and sunlight. It needs to stay a cool temperature or the secret will be revealed."  
  
Both Sydney and her younger self felt the confusion.  
  
"What did she say?" Sark's voice echoed in her ear. "How is the secret revealed?"  
  
Sydney felt the words tumble from her mouth unwillingly. "Apparently if the opal gets over-heated, the secret is somehow revealed."  
  
"Good." She heard Sark's winning tone.  
  
Sydney diverted her gaze back onto her mother.  
  
"I know you don't understand sweetie." Her mother was saying. "I would have waited till you were older. . . but time is short."  
  
Little Sydney looked at her mother quizzically for a moment, and then disregarded the statement. "Can we get some ice-cream now mommy?"  
  
"Alright Sydney." It was Sark's voice again, ruining the memory for her. "When I reach one, you will wake."  
  
Sydney took one last fleeting glance at her mother.  
  
"One."  
  
She opened her eyes to the nightmare she was in. Sydney was determined not to cry in front of Sark, but the tears came anyway, a torrent of unwanted emotions along with them.  
  
"I hate you!" She screamed out. She herself wasn't even positive who she was yelling at. Maybe she was yelling at her mother, maybe at Sark, maybe at herself.  
  
Her sobs were becoming uncontrollable, and she felt Sark release the cuffs.  
  
Doubling over in her chair, she hugged herself, rocking back and forth, trying anything to comfort herself.  
  
She felt Sark pull her arms away and she pounded her fists against his hard chest.  
  
He acted like he couldn't feel a thing. Lying an arm around her, he helped her to her feet and over to the bed.  
  
She kept hitting him. "Let go of me!"  
  
The rage in her voice was cut by the sobs. "Let go!"  
  
She shook uneasily, and then collapsed into him, holding onto to him for any comfort she could get.  
  
She wouldn't have chosen him as a comfort object, but right now he was all she had.  
  
In a troubled way, Sark wrapped his arms around her and spoke softly into her ear.  
  
"Thank you Sydney. It's almost over."  
  
She fainted.  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Nothing?" Jack asked Vaughn for the millionth time in three days.  
  
"No." Vaughn replied. "Sark left no clues, and I can remember nothing out of the ordinary."  
  
Jack leaned heavily against the wall. Vaughn was surprised that he was still coming to work. He was surprised that he himself had managed to even get out of bed this morning.  
  
"Sydney's a smart girl Jack." Vaughn said wearily. "We'll hear something from her soon. In the meantime I'll still be looking."  
  
"I know." Jack replied. "It's just hard, and I blame myself."  
  
"You can't blame yourself for anything. No one could have stopped it."  
  
"I could have." Jack replied. "A long time ago. I should never have allowed Sydney to have this sort of life."  
  
"It's in her blood. It's what she does best, and no one will stop her when she has her mind set."  
  
"She gets that from me." Jack said, breaking a smile for the first time since her abduction.  
  
Vaughn held onto that smile as a brief glimmer of hope.  
  
"I'm sure she does."  
~*~*~*~*~  
The first thing Sydney wanted as she awoke, was a steaming shower. They had given her washcloths and she had washed her face with the soap provided at the sink, but right now she craved a full thirty-minute shower.  
  
She pushed the longing aside and looked around the room. Sark was gone, she didn't know how long she had been out. But now, she realized, she couldn't waste anymore time. Sark knew how to release the secret of the opal, whatever it was.  
  
She got up, and thinking fast, took out the key Vaughn had slipped to her.  
  
She crawled down on the floor, and found the screws that held down the chair. Thankfully they were large, and Sydney used the key as a screwdriver. She stuck the pointy part of the key into the small slot of the screw, and twisted hard.  
  
First she thought the key would break before the screw would budge. But she threw all of her strength into it, supported the key as best she could, and finally she felt it loosen, after that it came out easily.  
  
She repeated this for the three other screws, which held down each leg of the chair. Soon the chair was free. Sydney picked it up and lifted it with a grunt up on the table. She climbed up, balancing her weight on the chair, stood carefully up. Her head brushed the ceiling. She smiled determinedly, and pushed with her palms flat on the tile over her head.  
  
It moved aside easily, and she pushed herself up through the hole, using her arms as props, and squiggling into the overhead space.  
  
It was dark and dusty, and she stifled a cough. The air was damp and closed in, and Sydney realized she was probably in a duct of some sort.  
  
She had a feeling that the opal was somewhere in this building, seeing as how Sark had so many guards around. She couldn't see anything but a small light, coming from her left. It looked to be an opening, or another tunnel leading off into a separate duct.  
  
After replacing the tile she had removed to get in, Sydney crawled carefully toward the light, since she couldn't stand.  
  
She found that her guess had been right. The light was another tunnel, this one looked to be like the air-conditioning duct. The source of light was coming through a large vent near the end. She kept herself from crying with joy. Finally she had a chance of escape!  
  
Sydney crawled to it, and looked through the vent's slats.  
  
Luck was with her. She was looking down into a room with nothing but a glass case sitting in the middle. In the case was nothing other than the opal. She glanced around for guards. Seeing none, she assumed they were all outside the door on the opposite end of the room. She couldn't see what was on her side of the room, seeing as how she was lying over it. She couldn't hear a thing though, so she decided to take a chance.  
  
Wiping off the sweat that was practically pouring off her forehead, she braced her back against the wall of the duct and using her feet as a hammer, she slammed them into the vent. The vent swung open, and hung attached to the ceiling. Sydney slipped through and dropped to the floor.  
  
She fanned herself as she walked slowly to the glass case. It had been hot in that duct, and she felt like her body temperature had risen a few degrees.  
  
After searching the case over for a way to open it, and finding none, she decided to break it.  
  
Jumping with as much momentum as she could, she karate-kicked the case, and watched the glass shatter onto the floor.  
  
Sydney grabbed the opal, and searched for an escape. She must have alerted someone by now with all the noise she was making.  
  
It was a second to late that she realized her mistake, and out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Sark.  
  
He grabbed her around the waist from behind. She gasped as his strong arms clasped her tightly to his body.  
  
"My, my Miss Bristow. What have you been doing?" His British-accented voice was touched with both seriousness and amusement.  
  
Sydney gritted her teeth, as her stomach fluttered annoyingly. He must have been watching her the whole time.  
  
"Don't you think it's time to find out what secret this opal holds?" He said happily.  
  
Sydney gripped the opal even harder.  
  
"I would be careful Sydney." His voice purred in her ear. "Remember what your mother told you about keeping the opal cool."  
  
Sydney realized with a jolt that he was right. Her sweaty palms were probably over-heating the opal now. She had to get away from Sark.  
  
With a strong force she twisted herself around in Sark's arms, so that now she was facing him.  
  
She felt his grip harden again in surprise. He was much stronger than he looked. Sydney used the method of surprise, and forced her lips down on his. Their tongues instantly collided in an outburst of anger and passion, and Sydney felt that same flash of wanting as she had before.  
  
But this time he was the first to pull away, and Sydney had forgotten all about using the kiss as a way to escape his grasp.  
  
"I hate to cut that short," Sark said heavily. They were both breathing hard. "But I really want that opal."  
  
He flung her forward, and she crashed to the floor amidst the shattered glass, the opal still clutched firmly in her hand. She grabbed her knee in pain as a shard of glass cut into it.  
  
Sark was towering above her, his eyes glowing so blue as he smiled triumphantly.  
  
He leaned down and grabbed Sydney's wrist and pulled her roughly up. He led her into the middle of the room. She was limping in pain and throwing punches at him, which he dodged.  
  
Then, taking a flailing Sydney in his arms, he yanked her close again, sticking one leg in between hers, and holding her steady there. The whole time he was whispering to her almost insanely. He lifted her hand with the opal in it, and held it out into the light that shone down onto the both of them, making a bright ring around them both.  
  
"Open your hand Sydney."  
  
Sydney turned her head to look into his eyes.  
  
"Open it!" He said again.  
  
Sydney tried one last desperate time to free herself from Sark's clutch, but he had her locked in.  
  
Her hand trembling, she slowly opened it, and the penetrating light caught the brilliantness of it. It blazed blue, and Sydney was reminded of the way Sark's eyes burned so blue.  
  
She turned to look at him again and almost gasped at the likeness between his blue eyes and the opal.  
  
"Anytime now. . ." Sark muttered, his eyes never leaving the opal. "Come on!"  
  
Sydney turned her gaze back to the opal. She could feel the light heating her already sweaty hand.  
  
Sydney watched in unbelief as the opal seemed to expand in her hand. She could hear Sark muttering behind her. Then it happened. It exploded in the heat, shattering just like the glass case had when she had kicked it. All that was left in her hand was the chain and a small shred of paper.  
  
"Yes!" Sark shouted. And with renewed strength he pushed Sydney against the wall and snatched the paper from her hand.  
  
He brushed his lips lightly against hers and smiled more broadly than ever.  
  
"Thank you Sydney. I never could have done it without you."  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Whew, that was long. Hope it wasn't confusing.  
  
Special thanks to:  
  
April, Masquerade, screen names are tacky, Brittany, IntriKate, redheadgrl, SassyAngel05, Schill, ella, swimminsweetie, and Sarkie47.  
  
I can't express how much your thoughts mean to me! Thank you so much! 


	6. Forbidden Desires

Disclaimer: Alias and it's characters are the creation of J.J. Abrams and his people. Only the plot is mine. :o)  
  
Blue Coincidences  
  
Chapter 6 Forbidden Desires  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
It was over.  
  
That's all Sydney could say to calm herself. It was like being in a dream. Nothing seemed real. How could she have really allowed Sark to know the secret of the opal? What had the shred of paper that had been hidden in the center of the opal said?  
  
After Sark had taken the paper from her, he had thrown her back into her cell, and now there were guards outside the window, constantly watching her.  
  
She wouldn't have had the strength to try and escape again anyway. She kept reliving the moment when the opal had shattered like glass in her hand. It was so strange, the pieces flew everywhere, like a bomb had just blasted it. And the most peculiar part had been what was left in her hand, what the opal had concealed for hundreds of years.  
  
A simple sheet of paper. From what Sydney had seen of it, the paper had looked thick and yellow, signs of being very old, and strange symbols had been written on it. It had looked like Rambaldi's own writing.  
  
The key to immortality had rested in her hands.  
  
And now it rested in Sarks.  
~*~*~*~*~  
Sloane took the paper out of Sark's hands with trembling fingers.  
  
"This is it then?" Sloane asked. "This is what the opal was hiding?"  
  
"Yes," Sark began eagerly. He pointed to the tiny symbols written in black ink on the small, tattered piece of paper. "We haven't been able to decipher them yet, but the specialists are working on it. I think all the translations are in the manuscript that Derevko brought us."  
  
"What do you think they mean?" Sloane was bent over, studying the symbols with a magnifying glass.  
  
"I think they are the formulas we've needed. If they are the formulas, then the only thing left to do would be to gather the chemicals. Then, with the formulas we can combine them correctly to make our little potion. We'll be able to use it in an injection."  
  
Sloane nodded in understanding. "Rambaldi had everything except computers and the right chemicals. He could have mastered immortality a long time ago, were it not for lack of correct resources in his time."  
  
He smiled up at Sark tiredly. "You are lucky to still be young and handsome. But with the immortality injection, I will be healthy and so will Emily. We will live forever, and everyone on the face of earth will want some. In one-hundred years we could possibly be the richest people in all of history."  
  
"People will do anything to avoid death." Sark stated.  
  
"Yes, we are pathetic creatures, humans." Sloane said, placing the Rambaldi paper in his briefcase. "I have to go check up on how they are coming along with deciphering the symbols."  
  
Sark nodded.  
  
Then as an afterthought, Sloane asked, "Have you found anything on Irina's whereabouts?"  
  
Sark hesitated. He hadn't told Sloane about the short conversation, and attempt at blackmail that Derevko had pulled earlier.  
  
"She called me."  
  
"What?" Sloane stopped abruptly.  
  
"Yes," Sark continued unwillingly. "But she wouldn't reveal where she was. I don't think she'll come back until we've finished with Sydney. I think it makes her feel guilty."  
  
Sloane narrowed his eyes in thought. "And what did she say?"  
  
"She warned me not to harm Sydney."  
  
Sloane's briefcase fell back onto his desk with a clatter. Sark could see him trying to control his anger. "Is she threatening to disclose our location to the CIA?"  
  
He had hit it right on the nail. "Unfortunately so, sir." Sark lowered his head. "I think she will too. Unless we free Sydney unharmed."  
  
"Take me to see Agent Bristow."  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sydney could sense their presence like never before. They were coming closer and closer to her cell. The familiar clop as Sark's shoes hit the floor, and the easiness in which he walked. And the proud air and fake dignity in which Sloane entered a room. They had both come to see her.  
  
Revenge.  
  
It was a sweet, sweet thing. Sydney's thoughts cherished the word. She envisioned killing them herself, ridding the world of their greedy minds, and escaping to the freedom that she probably would never have; unless freed by death. As gratifying as revenge sounded, Sydney's common sense and keen awareness hit her with full force. She needed to think first; she had made too many stupid mistakes already. No more mistakes.  
  
With that resolution in mind, she turned to face the two men she hated most.  
  
Silence filled her ears like the roar of the sea.  
  
Sloane stared at her with a mixture of joy and pain. Sark just looked overly satisfied with himself; he was dressed in a new suit, and stood rigidly behind Sloane, hands clasped together behind his back. Sydney figured he held a gun there- probably a small revolver.  
  
"I just came to thank you, Sydney." Sloane finally spoke, his rough voice making her cringe with hate. "We were glad to finally have you cooperate."  
  
"I did no such thing." Sydney retorted, furious that he would include her as a benefactor to their corrupt scheme. "I will not have you thinking that I am one to thank for your work. It's illegal and wrong, and you won't get away with it. If you want to thank anyone, thank my mother." She said 'mother' with disgust, proving to Sloane and Sark that she would never be like that. That she would never help a criminal with her own free will.  
  
"Ah, funny that you should bring up your mother." Sloane continued, appearing not to have changed emotions in the slightest bit. "She made kind of a deal with Mr. Sark for your sake."  
  
"I don't need anything from her." Sydney said, turning away and pacing the room like a caged tiger.  
  
"Don't be so hasty Miss Bristow. You might want to hear what she's proposed. . ." He paused. "Not that you have much choice in that matter anyway." He chuckled to himself jovially, and Sydney threw her best glare at them both.  
  
"She wants us to release you unharmed."  
  
Sydney stopped pacing. Was he lying? There was no way that he would release her. . .she had seen and knew too much. But then again, Sark had told her that Irina had refused to stay while Sydney was in their possession, and that they had no idea where she was. Maybe her mother was trying to help.  
  
"I would not have chosen to release you, although I don't think that I would have had the heart to kill you." Sark used that fatherly expression on Sydney. "You are so dear to me Sydney, such an extraordinary girl."  
  
Sydney wanted to spit on him.  
  
"But your mother has made it clear to us what she wants." He continued. Sark was still standing in the background, taking it all in. "So, I'll leave you with this warning. Don't try looking for us, Sydney. Don't interfere anymore or I will be forced to eradicate you and your father."  
  
Sydney was waiting for, 'and your little dog too'.  
  
Instead Sloane turned back to the door, giving Sark some sort of signal with the wave of his hand. "Good-bye Sydney." Sloane said. "Live your life. Don't waste it searching for me. . . after all, you don't live forever."  
  
She could see him smiling as he left and heard him murmur, "But I will."  
  
The door closed behind him and she was left alone with Sark.  
Sark brought his hands from behind his back, and Sydney was surprised to see a small plastic box of some sort instead of a gun. He set it down on the table, and shrugged off his coat before he leaned against the wall, folding his arms neatly over his chest. Glancing upward at the ceiling tiles he smiled in amusement, probably at the thought of Sydney's previous attempted escape.  
  
"Sloane is right, Sydney. You are extraordinary. I have only one question though." He paused as if expecting her to prod him on.  
  
When she stood in silence, the glare still plastered to her face, he continued smoothly.  
  
"How did you get that bloody chair detached?" He waved his hand at the chair that still rested on top of the table. The chair that she had used to reach the ceiling tile.  
  
Sydney didn't reply. She wasn't going to have him take away the only memory she had of her life, not to mention her only weapon.  
  
"I'm thinking Miss Bristow here had something we didn't know about." He left the wall and began walking towards her. Sydney stood her ground. "What has Miss Bristow been hiding?" His tone was sickeningly sweet and calculating.  
  
He stood only inches away from her now. She hated him for being so handsome. She hated herself for the way he made her feel when he walked into the room. And she hated that she could no longer remember what Vaughn's face looked like; the memory had been replaced with a clearer one of Sark.  
  
"Tell me Miss Bristow. Don't make me search for it."  
  
"It's Sydney." She surprised even herself by commanding Sark to use her first name. "What's yours?"  
  
"My what?" Sark asked, his train of concentration broken.  
  
"Your first name. I think I have the right to know what the first name of my captor is."  
  
He held her gaze in apparent surprise, but never missing a beat. "It sounds like to me, Sydney, that you want to know more about the man you kissed several times."  
  
Sydney started to retort in annoyance, but Sark continued.  
  
"I didn't think you wanted to get to know me. Remember when we worked together at SD-6? Every time I tried to make conversation with you, I was pushed away."  
  
"That's because I knew that you were an foul terrorist with nothing better to do than annoy your so called colleague."  
  
Sark smirked and grabbed Sydney's hand. Bringing it up to his lips he kissed her fingers, watching her over the top of her hand.  
  
"You're the one who wanted to know my first name." He whispered.  
  
Sydney wanted to jerk her hand away, but she couldn't. That in itself was entirely frustrating.  
  
"And you have yet to reveal your name." Sydney whispered back, unsure of why they were bothering to whisper.  
  
"There should be secrets in every relationship."  
  
"We aren't in a relationship!" Sydney was able to pull her hand away now. "And even if we were, you would have to tell me your first name! Why are you so difficult!?"  
  
She couldn't believe how badly he irked her. "I'm going to be the one to kill you Sark." She stated threateningly. "And I will cherish that moment forever."  
  
"Woah," Sark exclaimed. Sydney could tell that he was still finding the situation amusing. "First you want to know my name, and now you want to kill me? Way to pick up a guy."  
  
"I'm not trying to 'pick up' any guys! I swear I will find you, hunt you down, destroy all your precious Rambaldi work, and laugh afterwards."  
  
Everything was coming out in a big rush, and she could feel her face getting flustered.  
  
"I don't like you Sark! Get over yourself!"  
  
"Then prove it."  
  
And without warning he grabbed her, throwing his arms around her waste, and meeting her lips. Her first reaction was to push away, but Sark would have none of that, and Sydney realized that she wanted it too. So she gave into his kiss, breathing in his scent, and running a hand through his hair, and finally wrapping her arms around his neck.  
  
They fit together perfectly, and he took control of the kiss. His hands slid up her waste and between them, and Sydney realized a second to late where they were headed.  
  
But as she tore away from him, he already had it.  
  
"Ah ha!" He cried, holding the key up that he had retrieved from her bra. "I knew you where hiding something."  
  
Sydney slapped him.  
  
His expression never changed, like the red hand mark across his cheek hadn't affected him at all.  
  
"So this is how you unscrewed that chair from the floor." He continued as Sydney silently fumed. "Very clever Sydney."  
  
"You are inconceivable." Sydney said in loathing. "How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me!? And give that back!"  
  
"You enjoyed that just as much as I did Sydney, no need denying it. And I think I'll keep the key, thank you very much."  
  
He turned and walked to the table. Sydney clenched and unclenched her fists. Sark laid the key on the table and picked up the thin, black plastic box he had first set there.  
  
"I've been ordered to take care of your removal. I really am glad that we aren't going to have to kill you. Won't you consider the offer I have given you so many times before and come work for me?"  
  
Sydney snorted. "I'd rather work in LA's sewers."  
  
Sark never let his expression change. "Maybe one day you'll come to your senses and realize that the unlawful life is the good life."  
  
"Maybe one day I'll kick your ass." Sydney said sarcastically.  
  
"Alright then," Sark said, as if she were missing out big time. "Have it your way."  
  
He opened the box and Sydney saw a syringe and small bottle of clear liquid.  
  
"I hope your not thinking of sticking that in me." Sydney said.  
  
"It's only a tranquilizing injection." Sark replied as he stuck the needle of the syringe into the small bottle and filled it.  
  
"First you drug me after kidnapping me, then I faint, and now you're going to make me unconscious again? I don't think so. I'm going home fully awake."  
  
"We can't have you seeing our facilities. You might just get the stupid idea of leading your little CIA friends back here. Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which will it be?"  
  
Sydney glanced past him to the window. Those guards were standing there, waiting for the command.  
  
Sydney refrained from using the bad spout of language she wanted to say to Sark and rolled up her sleeve.  
  
"Good."  
  
Sark stuck the needle into her vein on her inner arm, and the contents were released into her bloodstream. Sydney didn't know where she would end up. She may never reach home. It could have been poison. But then again, nothing really mattered anymore. She had failed as an agent of the United States. The power of immortality now rested in the hands of two wanted criminals, and probably her mother, and she had not been able to stop it.  
  
You can't always win, she thought to herself.  
  
She took a long look at Sark, wondering if what they felt between one another was just lust. She couldn't possibly love a terrorist right? Not Sydney, she told herself. Sydney Bristow doesn't fall in love with people like Sark.  
  
She was becoming delirious, she told herself. The stuff Sark had just put into her system was making her think crazy things. How could she even use the words 'love' and 'Sark' in the same sentence?  
  
"It works pretty quickly." Sark was saying. It seemed like she was hearing him from a distance. "I guess this is good-bye Sydney."  
  
She was staring into his blue eyes. They were so deep, and if you looked past the pain and anger that had blocked the beauty of them, it was like looking into a hidden compartment, filled with secrets and maybe even a bit of good.  
  
It reminded Sydney of the opal. Both it and Sark's eyes burned so blue, and each had its secrets.  
  
"What a coincidence." Sydney whispered. "A blue coincidence." Her words were beginning to slur; the tranquilizer was beginning to take effect.  
  
"What?" Sark asked.  
  
But she was out.  
  
He caught her in his arms.  
  
Right then Sark wanted to take back every nasty word he had ever said to Sydney.  
  
Right then he wanted to take back his career decision so that he could be with her.  
  
But right then he knew that wouldn't ever happen. She was gorgeous, but she wasn't evil. He was malicious and his life was set in that direction forever. He would never change, and she wouldn't either. Love wasn't something that could work between them.  
  
Love between them was forbidden, but so tempting.  
  
"My first name is Andrew." He whispered to Sydney's sleeping figure.  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
~The End~  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Wait! Before you freak out on me, I want everyone to know that I am writing an epilogue. I just liked the ending like this, but don't worry, I'll wrap it up a little better in the epilogue. I hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.  
  
Obviously we don't know what Mr. Sark's first name is, because the show has yet to reveal that little fact. I have read several other fics that used Andrew as his first name, and I think it fits well enough. Hopefully, in the future, his real name will be told on Alias.  
  
Special thanks to:  
  
Piper: I'm so glad you enjoy my story! Thanks for the sweet review  
  
nattie700: Thanks for your encouraging e-mail and reviews. I am actually writing the epilogue right now, and am using the facts you gave me on the opal. Thanks again.  
  
Swimminsweetie: Thanks for the many reviews you have left me, I love having long-term reviewers. It's always encouraging. Thanks!  
  
Essie: I've been on a busy schedule too! But thanks so much for the reviews!  
  
Jade_Symphony: You're another great person who has stuck through it with me! I greatly appreciate all your comments and encouragement!  
  
april: I'm really glad you like it! Thanks for staying such a faithful reviewer! It means quite a lot to me.  
  
screen names are tacky: First of all, I have to say that I love your screen name. And second, I love your reviews as well. They always make me feel proud of my writing when I thought it was all crap. Thanks so much!  
  
JJ: I love S/S too. (Obviously hehe) Anyway, thanks for the nice reviews!  
  
redheadgrl: I was so glad that I was able to make your night! Hope this chap did the same! Thanks for all the sweet reviews!  
  
Brittany: Thanks for always reviewing, it means a lot to me! Hope you enjoyed the ending!  
  
Schill: Sark is the Man!! Lol, don't worry it's not gonna end up S/V or anything. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I enjoyed them! 


	7. Epilogue

Facing Fear  
  
Epilogue  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
The morning light gleamed softly in her eyes as Sydney awoke. The air smelled fresh and clean, and she was snug under soft sheets.  
  
She rubbed her eyes and realized that she was in her own room.  
  
And with agony Sydney remembered everything.  
  
But the remembrance of Sark, being kidnapped, and the opal brought a new question.  
  
Had it all been a dream?  
  
Hope filled Sydney like the rain filled the stream. What was today? Had it only been a nightmare?  
  
She jumped out of bed and caught a reflection of herself in her mirror.  
  
Her hopes and the chance of it all being a dream diminished. For she was still in the clothes Sark had given her to wear. Sydney saw her expensive, black dress that she had bought for the date laying on a chair across the room.  
  
It had not been just a simple nightmare.  
  
It had been very real.  
  
Then Sydney remembered the tranquilizer Sark had given her, and realized that he must have brought her home.  
  
The thought made Sydney tremble. Sark, the terrorist who she had willingly kissed, the same man who she had unwillingly fallen in love with, had been in her home. He had tucked her into bed, and probably stood watching her sleep for a while before leaving. . .forever.  
  
He had taken what he wanted from Sydney- her mother's opal. But he had also taken a part of Sydney that could never be filled again. A part of her heart.  
  
Sydney let her head fall into her lap and cried. Cried for herself, cried for Sark, cried for the opal, and cried for her mother.  
  
Life was so hard. She was confined in her own prison. . .a prison built of her own dreary emotions. It was a cell she couldn't escape, and one she would have to live with forever.  
  
She finally remembered her father, and how worried he must be about her. Burying the new grief, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and determinedly stood up. She turned to look at herself in the mirror for a moment.  
  
She needed to change, both her shirt and jeans were dirty. Maybe she would burn them. Her hair was badly tasseled, and she quickly ran a brush through it.  
  
As she replaced the brush, her eye caught the small jewelry box that she had kept her mothers opal in for so many years.  
  
It hadn't been a nightmare.  
  
She lifted the lid of the box slowly and peered inside just to make sure. Just to be sure that it had all been real.  
  
The opal wasn't there.  
  
She knew it wasn't going to be there.  
  
But something else was.  
  
There was a folded letter lying in her box. The opal had been replaced with a letter.  
  
Sydney felt her body begin to tremble. She lifted the paper unsteadily, and unfolded it. The flowing script read:  
  
Sydney,  
  
My deepest apologies for putting you through that whole ordeal. Some say that opals bring bad luck. I have to say that your opal did quite the opposite. Your opal brought me nothing but good luck; you and of course, the key to immortality as an added bonus.  
  
It doesn't do to dwell on the past, Sydney. Nor to worry about the future. What has happened is done and can not be changed. Don't come looking for us; that would be a waste of your life. You only live so long Sydney. But, thanks to you, I will be around. . .for a long time.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Sark  
  
Sydney crumpled the paper in her hand. She lifted the jewelry box and threw it across the room in a spout of anger.  
  
"I don't think so, Sark!" Sydney yelled to the walls in her room. "How long will you live once I've shot you in the head with a .45 several times!?"  
  
She was acting like a mad person. But Sark had driven insane to a certain extent. The want of revenge came back again, and Sydney vowed to dedicate the rest of her life to the finding and killing of Sark.  
  
Weather she would actually be able to kill him once she found him was an entirely different issue. . .  
~*~*~*~*~  
Jack Bristow was expecting a call from Vaughn at any time. Michael had been researching a new lead on Sydney's disappearance.  
  
So, when his cell phone rang and he answered, the voice on the line surprised him.  
  
"Jack here." He answered, hoping that Vaughn had actually found something useful on Sydney's case.  
  
The voice on the other line hesitated. Then finally,  
  
"Dad. I'm home."  
~*~*~*~*~  
Sydney embraced her father in a great hug. Tears were running down his cheek, and Vaughn, who was standing to the side, looked as if he might cry as well.  
  
They stood in Sydney's living room. Both Jack and Michael had rushed over as soon as Sydney had called.  
  
Sydney parted with her dad, who kissed her lightly on the cheek, muttering his thanks for having her home and how stupid he was to let something like that happen to her.  
  
"It's not your fault, dad." She responded softly.  
  
"That's right." Vaughn said, as he moved in to embrace Sydney as well. "If it's anyone's fault, it's Irina Derevko's." Sydney had told them all about her mother and the opal, it's secret, and why Sark had wanted it.  
  
Sydney hesitated to respond to Vaughn's hug. She couldn't push the vision of Sark out of her mind. It was a curse.  
  
But suddenly Vaughn just seemed. . .he just seemed Vaughn. There was nothing special about him anymore. Her stomach didn't flutter, and her heart didn't race when he touched her. . . with Sark it had.  
  
She tried to push these thoughts out of her head, and fell into Vaughn's hug. He pulled away and laid his lips on hers.  
  
She ended the kiss quickly and started the conversation.  
  
"Where's Francie? I tried calling her, but she didn't pick up."  
  
"That's really a good question." Jack said, his brow wrinkling in thought. "We got in touch with her after Sark kidnapped you, and she seemed worried enough, but she said she hadn't been home when it happened."  
  
Vaughn picked up there. "And when we tried to call her again, to see if she remembered anything unusual about the day, she brushed our questions aside, and didn't help much. We haven't seen her at all, except when we combed over your place for clues. She just stayed out of our way."  
  
"Well," Sydney began with puzzlement. "She was probably just scared, and didn't understand."  
  
As if on cue the front door opened and Francie walked in.  
  
"Sydney!" She cried. "What happened!?"  
  
Sydney embraced her friend as well, but she hesitated on what to tell her. How could she tell Francie that she worked for the CIA, and that her worst enemy had kidnapped her for a Rambaldi artifact that held the secret to immortality?  
  
Thankfully her father answered for her. He had always been the quick thinker.  
  
"Sydney left on an emergency business trip on Friday, and hadn't had time to call us, and planned to when she reached her destination. But the small plane she had taken was experiencing problems after only an hour in the air, and they had to stop out in the middle of the desert."  
  
Jack finished. It was a far-fetched story, but they had fed Francie worse lies.  
  
"Then why didn't you call?" Francie asked. Sydney saw another strange flash of emotion through her friend's face. She had certainly been acting strange lately.  
  
"I had forgotten my cell phone!" Sydney exclaimed. "I was stuck! Bizzare isn't it?" She laughed nervously.  
  
"I'd say so." Francie answered. "But your home now, and we're thankful for that." She didn't sound all that thankful. "How about I fix us some tea?"  
  
"That sounds great." Vaughn answered for them all. "Thanks."  
  
Sydney sighed once Francie had reached the kitchen, and said in a low voice, "I'm going to find Sark."  
  
Jack's defensive fatherly side took over. "You are doing no such thing. The authorities can handle them from here."  
  
"Dad, I'm not giving up. I'm finding Sark, Sloane, and my mother. If they truly have completed the immortality work, then the world is in a lot of danger."  
  
"Sydney it's too soon." Jack pleaded. "Please just let someone else worry about it now. I can't lose you again."  
  
Sydney felt so much love for her father. She had forgotten how important their relationship was to her.  
  
"I have to dad."  
  
"No you don't." Vaughn cut in. "It's too risky. And they have hidden themselves well. You don't remember anything about the location of their lab?"  
  
"No, I was drugged when they took me in, and out. I don't even know how long it took to get there. It can't be too far from LA though. I have to find them."  
  
"No, I draw the line here, Sydney." Her father said. "You've done as much as you can, and you've been put through enough. If I have to make official orders so that you can't go looking for Sark and company, then I will."  
  
Sydney stared at her father in disbelief. "You can't do that."  
  
"I can and I will."  
  
Sydney sunk down onto her sofa, and Vaughn did the same.  
  
"You can't always win." He said softly. "Unfortunately good doesn't always prosper over evil."  
  
"I know." Sydney answered.  
  
She realized that part of her longing to find and destroy Sloane and all his work was that she wanted to see Sark again. Just look on him one more time to convince herself that she wasn't in love with him.  
  
Then she would kill him.  
~*~*~*~*~  
Sark stood staring into Sydney's empty cell. She was gone for good. And he was left here, where he should be, maybe forever. If everything went right with the immortality formula, he could choose his future.  
  
But he wanted his future to include Sydney. He wanted to hold her, wanted to explore her. He wanted to argue with her, or just see her one last time.  
  
Sark heard someone approach and turned around.  
  
"I need you to deliver some equipment to our contact." It was Sloane.  
  
Sark raised a brow quizzically.  
  
"It's just a new transmitter. The one she had at agent Bristow's place is having problems."  
  
"You're asking me to deliver to agent Bristow's home?"  
  
"Well you can meet our contact somewhere else if you would like." Sloane glanced from Sark to the empty prison cell that he had been staring into for quite sometime.  
  
"You like her don't you?" Sloane asked, smiling.  
  
Sark straightened his tie and cleared his throat. "Agent Bristow? Of course not."  
  
"She is very beautiful." Sloane said, almost longingly. "I can see why you are attracted to her."  
  
"Sir, I am not attracted to agent Bristow."  
  
Sloane smiled. Sark was getting annoyed. This wasn't the first time he had wanted to wring the old git's neck.  
  
"Hurry on then." Sloane ordered.  
  
Sark stared him down for a second and then walked briskly away. He picked up the transmitter at the lab, and stopped by his own place to change and freshen up.  
  
'I'm being ridiculous.' Sark thought to himself. 'I'm actually thinking that I might run into Sydney, and then my life will be complete.'  
  
The way Sloane had been acting had bothered him though. He had made it seem like it was okay if Sark wanted to see Sydney. Well, Sark could do anything he wanted.  
  
Unfortunately, Sydney was something he wanted. . .  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sydney sighed as the hot water left scalding red marks on her body. She had never enjoyed a shower so much in her life. She stood almost motionless under the water, letting her thoughts melt with the steam and comforting aroma of soap.  
  
She had finally convinced her father that she wouldn't go after Sark. . .at least not right away.  
  
Why did she want this revenge so bad? Why did he occupy her thoughts in places that only Vaughn should be?  
  
After forty long minutes underneath the hot water, which was beginning to turn cold, she stepped out and dried off, running a separate towel through her soft chocolate colored hair.  
  
She changed into a tank and cotton shorts, and went into the kitchen to see if Francie had ever made that tea.  
  
There was no sign of Francie or tea in the kitchen. Sydney wondered where she could have gone, and called out her name. The house was deserted, and after a quick check out the window, she noticed that Francie's car was gone as well. She stared out the open blinds into the street outside. It was dark and misty, the full moon hidden by stormy clouds. She wondered about Francie and what she might be doing. They were going to have a talk some day soon. Something wasn't right between them.  
  
Sydney pushed aside her worries about Francie and busied herself with the kettle, placing it on the stove to boil the water for tea.  
  
Leafing through a magazine while waiting for the water to boil, Sydney felt a strange prickling on the back of her neck. It was that feeling. The feeling of being watched intently.  
  
She slowly turned her head to the window with the open blinds.  
  
Something flashed away, and Sydney was immediately on her guard. Someone was out there. They had been watching her, she just knew it.  
  
Creeping to her bedroom, she grabbed her revolver out from under her bed and checked the barrel. There were only two bullets in it.  
  
She scrambled around underneath the bed, and finally her hand closed over the box of spare bullets.  
  
It was empty.  
  
"Damn!"  
  
She had two shots at the most for her own safety.  
  
Keeping the gun at ready position, she made her way stealthily back into her living room. The feeling of being watched was over-whelming now. She turned each corner, jutting her gun out first and scanning the room before stepping into it.  
  
She scanned the windows. The only one with the blinds open was then one she had looked out only minutes ago. No one could have gotten in. She was being paranoid. There were no eyes staring into her window. . .she had watched too many horror movies.  
  
The kettle on the stove screamed it's eagerness to be poured out, and Sydney had to breathe for a moment to keep her heart rate steady. She glanced one more time at the window, reminded herself that she was just being paranoid, and that she needed to get more sleep, before throwing her gun onto the sofa next to her magazine and rushing into the kitchen to calm the whistling kettle.  
  
The wonderful aroma of English Tea filled her nostrils as she wrapped her hands around the mug and went back into the living room.  
  
She stopped dead in her tracks.  
  
Her gun was gone.  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sark stood in Sydney Bristow's hallway, holding Sydney Bristow's gun, and watching Sydney Bristow stare in shock at the place where her gun had rested only seconds ago.  
  
He congratulated himself in picking her lock and slipping in so smoothly and unnoticeably.  
  
The shock on Sydney's face was replaced by an immense amount of anger, her fear being replaced by her well-known fighting instinct.  
  
"Come out!" She yelled, and Sark sank deeper into the shadows of the hallway. "Are you scared to face me?!"  
  
Her tone was mocking and brave, never quavering and quite professional. It was only a matter of seconds before she would find him. And Sark silently asked himself why he was here. Supposedly he was here to install a new transmitter for their contact posing as Francie. But that was done, Sark had completed it in a flash, silently and without Sydney ever noticing. He could have slipped out of the door while she was in her room, or while she was in the kitchen. But Sark's daring side had not allowed that. He came for what he wanted. He knew she wanted him just as bad.  
  
She was getting closer and closer to the hallway. Her eyes were darting back and forth, her body moving silently and gracefully. Sark tucked the gun into the back of his thousand dollar suit pants and prepared to grab her. This was so much fun, he realized. She was intriguing.  
  
Sydney had obviously discovered where the intruder was, and right as Sark leaped at her she was ready. She met him mid-way, never getting a glance of his face in the darkened hall, and rammed her shoulder into him. Pulling back to swing at him, Sark threw off the punch, by letting her fist smash into his palm, reached forward and grabbed her by the shoulder, and rolled forward as she tried to flip him over.  
  
They tumbled out of the hall and into the more lighted living room. She unexpectedly twisted his arm away from her, and she shoved him to the floor. She had him pinned and looked into his face.  
  
"YOU!" She cried, temporarily thrown off guard.  
  
"Why of course." Sark replied nonchanlantly. "Aren't you happy to see me again so soon?"  
  
He was stronger than her and he knew it. Using her astonishment to his advantage, he twisted his wrists out of her pinning grip and rolled the both of them over, this time restraining her to the floor.  
  
She grunted and struggled, but he held her firm, using his body as a barrier.  
  
"Why are you here!?" Sydney demanded, still struggling under his hold.  
  
"Stop resisting." Sark answered, an animated gleam in his eye. "You'll tire yourself out and that will be no fun."  
  
"Get off me!"  
  
Sark was going to have to do something soon. The pleasure of holding her down with his own body was becoming evident.  
  
He got to his feet, brushed off his nice, clean blue oxford shirt, and reached out a hand to help her up.  
  
"Just like that?" Sydney asked incredulously. "You've got to be kidding." And to the surprise of them both she burst out laughing. "You broke into my home." She began in between a fit of giggles. "Stole my gun, ambushed me, and now you're going to give me your hand to help me up?"  
  
She rolled with laughter, and he dropped his hand in awe. Sark was definitely bemused by this woman.  
  
"I don't think so." Sydney said, finally controlling herself and standing up. "I'm going to kill you now, okay?"  
  
She said it jovially, and Sark realized how much she was going through. Her eruption of laughter was to hide the pain and tears she wanted to spill. She had done this to herself, though. She had fallen for him.  
  
"You can't kill me Sydney." Sark said softly. Sydney chose to ignore him.  
  
"Tell me why you're here. What did Sloane send his little doggie for now?" She mocked him with pleasure.  
  
Sark moved towards her and the effect he had expected occurred. She stepped back.  
  
"Tell me!" She said, the mocking tone leaving her voice and the fear returning. "Why are you here?!" She took a step back each time he moved forward. Retreat. It was obvious, and they both knew it.  
  
"You know why I'm here Sydney." He had said it, he was going to voice the truth.  
  
"Obviously I don't." She replied with irritation. "Or I wouldn't be asking you."  
  
He kept walking, and she kept retreating, her skin glowed bronze in the light, and her eyes moved nervously.  
  
"Why are you backing away?" Sark asked, smiling with delight. He would win again. "Unless you're scared of me."  
  
"I'm not scared of you!"  
  
"Don't lie to yourself Sydney. You feel it everytime we're in the same room. You could even feel me watching you. And that scares you. It scares you that you would fall for someone like me. A cold-blooded, heartless killer."  
  
He stopped walking as they reached the wall, she was cowering against it, trying to keep away from the touch she wanted so desperately. It was too easy.  
  
"And then you say to yourself, 'I'll just kill him. That will end it all.' But that won't end it. I'll be in your dreams. I'll be under your very skin."  
  
He was enjoying her change in expressions. Sark could see the very thoughts going through her head. He took one step closer to fill in the gap between them and knew there was no turning back.  
  
Sydney trembled when he first touched her, running his hands down her side and finally wrapping his arms around her waist.  
  
"Don't do this to me Sark." She whispered, as his lips moved closer. "I'm supposed to kill you."  
  
"You wouldn't be able to even if you tried." He leaned in and let his lips wander dangerously close to hers, and then moved upward, to her ear. He whispered with a rich tone soothingly into her ear, "I love you."  
  
She hesitated, taking a long look into his gleaming blue eyes. "Just for tonight." She whispered back at last. "I love you too." Sydney lifted her arms and wound them around his neck, knowing that she couldn't deny the feeling in her heart. It was wrong. She wasn't supposed to fall for the enemy.  
  
Too late. . .  
~*~*~*~*~  
Sydney's life afterward would be turmoil. She knew it. She couldn't even carry a conversation with Sark without ending up in an argument.  
  
But after that night, the night she had realized that love can't be denied, no matter what the person you find yourself in love with is like, that place in her heart would be complete. The emptiness and longing for someone that could comfort her. She had found it in the arms of an enemy.  
  
They wouldn't date. They wouldn't marry. They wouldn't even call one another. But they would always sense and know each other, always pretending that nothing had ever happened between them and going on with their lives.  
  
Maybe one day Sydney would find Sloane and her mother again. She was almost certain she would, and the immortality formula would be destroyed forever. . .only a memory of long ago, of dreams and accomplishments would remain.  
  
And with it a memory of a forbidden love.  
  
A memory of blue eyes and an innocent opal. . .  
~*~*~*~*~  
A/N: I know this doesn't wrap up the story completely, but I'm afraid that's my style of writing. I like to leave a touch of mystery in my stories, but I sincerely hope that all of you enjoyed the epilogue. I wanted Sydney and Sark to see each other one last time.  
  
There won't be a sequel, cause I suck at those. Sorry! But expect another Sarkney fic from me in the future, once I figure out a plot!  
  
Special thanks to nattie700 on her explanations about the opal.  
  
And to Sarkie47: Don't worry about it! Lol. I am so glad you liked it. Thanks for all your encouraging reviews!  
  
Thanks to all the reviewers!  
  
~Sydney Wood 


End file.
